Dirty Laundry
by almostfrances
Summary: Bella is doing a late night load at the local laundromat when she meets a handsome stranger that tempts her... AU/AH. One Shot, Lemons.


Dirty Laundry

almostfrances

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight and do not profit from writing this.

A/N: Hello all! This idea popped into my head while I was doing my own midnight laundry, and I hope you like it! Please leave reviews, show me some love! Make sure you check out my other story, **I'm in Love with a Stripper**, if you enjoy this. Follow me on Twitter - **frankienopants **- for further updates and shiz. Now, on with the madness! 3 Thank you for reading!

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I notice him as soon as he breezes through the door of the laundromat. It's one of those 24 hour places, which is why I like it - insomnia keeps me up all the time, and being a college student, its nice to have somewhere to do my homework and get things done. Especially since my roommate, Rosalie Hale, is usually too busy fucking her boyfriend for me to get anything done in our dorm room.

The guy is freaking hot - touseled bronze hair, the strangest color I've ever seen, with a bit of matching scruff on his chin and cheeks. He's got the face stolen from a Roman statue, like Michaelangelo or one of those busts we studied in my Ancient Humanities class. All chiseled cheekbones, a strong brow, perfect nose and full, plump lips that look unbelievably soft. His eyes are the darkest, forrest green - reminding me of the evergreen trees back home in Forks. He's dragging a sack of clothes, which looks pretty overstuffed (just like mine) and a backpack slung over one lean shoulder. His jeans are fitted and distressed, but not in the store-bought way. It looks as though he wore them out himself, which is much more attractive... His T-shirt is a threadbare gray V-neck, with a pocket above the break, and a black leather jacket that looks as soft as melted butter tops off the ensemble. I unconciously lick my lips as I gaze at him, before realizing that I'm staring - and practically salivating.

I glance back down at my psychology textbook, feeling my cheeks burn with embarassment. I can't help that it's been so long - way too long - since I saw a male in the flesh as delectable as this specimen. I also can't help the way my hands begin to shake as I flip the page.

"This table taken?" At the sound of his voice, I flinch in my chair, startled. He chuckles at me, and says, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, I know," I say, shaking my head. _Stupid, stupid Bella._ "I was just so into my book, you know... But no, go for it." I gesture at the empty table beside the one I'm sitting on, and he dumps his clothes into the basket and starts seperating. We are the only customers in the whole laundromat. Drizzle hits the big glass windows overlooking the street, where a lone figure jogs through the puddles across the streets.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can't help watching him. He slips off his jacket, baring his toned arms to me. Oh my, I wouldn't mind feeling _those_ biceps. He's humming to himself as he sorts his colors, and I blush when he tosses a pair of girls panties into his white's.

_Taken_, I realize with an inward sigh. They usually are, when they're that good-looking. I return to my book, ignoring the disappointment coursing through me, and continue reading about Frued and his failed theories.

"So, are you an insomniac too?" he asks, and this time, I don't flinch.

"Yeah, I guess," I say with a shrug. "I'm a college student, so I pretty much will sleep after I graduate."

"Yeah, I hear that," he chuckles. He's got the most perfect, pearly white teeth behind those soft looking lips. I want to lick them.

God, what is wrong with me? Sure, it's been over a year since I had sex, and that was with my ex, Jake, before we realized the distance between Seattle and Forks had killed our relationship. Sex with Jake had been fun, after the first few times. He was animalistic, throwing me around and into whatever position his heart desired. I remember fondly the time we had sex in the bed of my old red Ford pickup truck, which had been the very last time. As if we had sensed it, we both tried to make it our best. Successful, too.

But that doesn't explain why the temperature in here has suddenly gone white-hot. I tug at my U-Dub T-shirt, feeling flush all over my body now. My knickers are surely soaking as I watch him stretch lazily, catching an eyeful of washboard abs and a happy trail leading down to his waistband. Mmm, I wonder what that would taste like.

_Pervert_, the innocent side of my brain accuses. _Dirty tramp._

_Oh shut it,_ the devil on my shoulder insists. _What's a little lustful eyecandy?_

I side with the devil this time. Looking won't hurt, and its not like I could tear my eyes away from this guy if I tried.

"What are you majoring in?" he asks. He must be lonely, trying to chat up a mousy, plain thing like me. My long brown hair hangs like a curtain around my round, heart-shaped face. I have dark brown eyes, a porcelain pale complexion that is thankfully without blemish, and a small mouth with too dark lips. I'm on the average side for height, a little bit thinner than most, and I feel like the most ungraceful Swan in my family. I'm all angles, with sharp elbows and knobby knees. I'm not like Rosalie, my beautiful Playboy Bunny of a roommate, who is soft curves and womanly shaped. I have meager breasts, wide hips, and scrawny legs. Nothing to write home about...

"Major in Lit, Minor in Psyche," I reply. "Are you a student?" My voice sounds frail and shy even in my head, and I nearly wince at the sound of it over the washing machines that are running.

"I was," he says with a nod. "I graduated last spring. Business major."

"Oh really," I reply. "Hows the real world?"

"Not all it's cracked up to be," he says with a sad smile. "It's a struggle out there. But you sound like you're learning for love, not money. Which I hope makes things better for you."

"Thanks," I say, genuinely surprised at his compassion. I can tell in his voice that he's serious, that he really hopes things are better for me when I graduate. I flush with pleasure.

After he gets his loads going, he scoots onto the edge of the table I'm sitting on, and peers over my shoulder at my text. He chuckles, "Oh, good ol' Frued. Everything is the mother's fault."

"Indeed," I laugh with him. "That, and everything is a penis."

"Well, the penis is a very powerful tool." The handsome stranger winks at me, and I can't believe we're talking about penises in the middle of the night in a laundromat. My blush is like wildfire, spreading over my chest and neck and cheeks and up to the roots of my hair. I duck my head, letting my hair fall over my face.

"Don't do that," he says, and I feel him tucking my hair behind my hair with a gentle finger. "You have the most beautiful skin I've ever seen."

I turn to blink up at him, dumbfounded. No one has ever said something like that - with so much emotion in their voice and sincerity in their eyes - in my life. I gulp, and know that if he leans in to kiss me, I'm going to kiss him back. Even with those girl's panties in his wash. Our gazes lock for a few long moments, green on brown, the color of trees and grass and other plants. The green needs the brown to flourish, support it. I can't believe I'm making metaphors at a time like this.

"What is your name?" he asks, tracing a finger lightly down my cheek to my chin, tipping my face up to his.

"B-B-Bella," I stammer, intimidated by his suave. Up close, I can see flecks of gold in those green eyes, and long lashes that frame them.

"I'm Edward," he says, before he crashes those lips against mine. They are just as soft as I have imagined. I can't help but fist my hands in that wild, strange colored hair of his, and his hand finds the back of my neck and my waist, tugging me so our thighs are flush against each other. Edward growls - literally - against my lips, before biting at them. He sucks the bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling with surprising tenderness.

"You are fucking sweet," he whispers against my lips, before grabbing my hips and tossing me into his lap. I'm straddling his firm thighs, and the only thing between us is my yoga pants and his jeans. I want to tear the fly open and bury my hand in his boxers, to feel the treasure that surely awaits me, but Edward has other ideas.

"Edward," I whimper, making him pull away with a sigh. "Um, those panties in your wash...?"

"Those are my girlfriends," he says, with a wink and grin, before finding my lips again.

He slowly, teasingly kisses his way from my earlobe to my shoulder, sucking and licking the whole time. I shiver beneath his talented mouth, thanking my lucky stars for whatever good deed I did to deserve this. Fuck the world outside of this laundromat - he's _mine_, for now.

When his hand cups my breast, he gasps in surprise. "No bra? Naughty Bella," he murmurs, his thumb stroking over one taut peak. I arch and gasp, then moan as he latches on with his mouth over my T-shirt. I'm going to have a wet-spot (well more than one, if I'm being honest) and I do not care. Throwing caution to the wind, I whip my shirt over my head and lean back. My hair falls forward over my shoulders, covering my nipples, teasing. Edward groans at the visual.

"You have the most perfect tits," he says, his voice dark and husky, "that I have ever seen." And then he proves his point, finding my other nipple and taking it between his teeth. The pain is sweet, tinged with lust, and the sensation shoots straight to my crotch. I'm arching and moaning, tugging on his hair, wanting more and more.

I hear the click of the rinse cycle, the tell-tale _swish-wish _of the water.

Edward's hands trace down my ribs, one wandering up and the other wandering down, as though he's torn on where to touch. I decide for him, tugging up the edge of his T-shirt until he pulls it over his head and discards it on the floor.

I suck in a breath. He _is_ a God. I lean forward and lick his throat to this chest, moaning as I go. He throws his head back, letting me work him over. I slip off the table, and realize that its the perfect height for what I intend to do. With a wicked grin, I reach for his belt buckle and begin to unfasten with surprisingly steady hands.

"Bella," he growls, grabbing my arms.

"Please," I whisper, looking up at him innocently. "I want to."

With a sigh, he helps me rid him of his jeans and underwear until he's naked in front of me, save for his socks. If someone is to walk in right now, they'd definitely get a shock. A topless co-ed hunkered in front of this beautiful man, who is stark-raving as well. Thank God no one has discovered us yet. Let's hope there aren't any security cameras...

The heat between my legs intensifies as I gaze at him. He's long and hard, thick as well, and I can practically see him throbbing. How I have managed to get this man, this handsome, drop-dead-gorgeous guy who apparently has a girlfriend, _this_ turned on... It's beyond me, but I'm not going to waste too much time questioning. I wrap my little hand around his cock, licking my lips in preparation.

"Oh God," he groans, threading his fingers into my thick, dark hair as I wrap my lips around his head. It's almost hard to fit him in my mouth, but I'm willing to do my best. He tastes like skin, delicious though. I swirl my tongue around and he arches into my mouth, forcing me to take him further in. I suck softly, teasing, as I bob slowly. He's mumbling under his breath, I can't make out his words, but I assume I'm doing a good job when his hand tightens on my hair. I suck in earnest, hard like I'm sipping an extra thick milkshake, and he cries out suddenly before pushing me off of him.

"If you keep up like that," he pants, nearly glaring at me, "I'm going to cum."

"Oh," I reply dumbly. Then he's switching our positions, tugging off my yoga pants. My bare ass hits the laundry table and I yelp at the cold.

"Maybe if you weren't such a naughty girl, and wore panties," he says with a predatory smile, "you wouldn't be so cold."

He then parts my thighs, and stares between my legs for what seems like an eternity. I blush, and begin to cover up - he must think I'm terribly deformed if he's staring for that long - until he captures both of my hands in one of his.

"Now, now," he says, shaking his head. "One must admire such a beautiful little pussy. It's so little." He ghosts an index finger over my pussy lips, before sliding it between. I'm soaking wet, and as I spread my legs further, I can feel the wetness on my thighs. "Mmm, you smell delicious. Now tell me, do you taste as good as you smell?"

He removes his finger, glistening with my excitement, and places it at my lips. Without hesitation, I open my lips and suck his finger in, tasting myself. It's musky, a little spicy and a little sweet. He moans as he watches, before taking his finger out and burying his face between my legs without further ceremony. I cry out at the sudden attack - his tongue is lapping at my little bundle of nerves, an expert already at my body. My hips are arching off of the laundry table, and my breathing is loud and erratic. _Fuck_, this feels good. Better than anything I can remember.

"Do you like that baby?" he asks, gazing up from between my legs. His rubs his nose against the strip of hair down there, before suckling on my clit and making me cry out louder. My legs are trembling, and his assault is nonstop. The tightening in my belly is burning hot, and it intensifies with each breath I take. I'm close to the edge, and he seems to sense it. With a grin that I feel against my sex, he plunges his finger inside of me. I cry out, a loud, long moan, and feel that coil tighten and break. Pleasure washes over me in waves, making my vagina contract with sensation. Edward groans and pulls away. His lips are shiny with my desire.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he states as he stands. His erection bobs, hard and long, making me a bit nervous. It's been so long, I'm hoping that my virginity hasn't grown back - Rosalie had claimed that it would if I didn't have sex for so long. She was a slut, so I figured she would be an expert on all things sex...

Edward pulls me to the edge of the table, making it creak, and wraps my long legs around his narrow waist. I'm starting to sweat, and so is he, but it somehow doesn't gross me out. Instead, it only turns me on more. Among the salty scent of his skin and dryer sheets that fills the air, he positions himself at my entrance.

"Gentle," I plead, and he smiles down at me, so sweetly.

"Of course," he replies. He's so big that at first I feel as though he's tearing me in half. I watch in shock as he drives that big thing inside of me, working it slowly and covering it with my juices to make sure its lubricated enough. He hisses, and his eyelids flutter shut. "You feel so fucking tight, so good."

"Mmmm," I moan in reply. He's hit that spot inside of me, filling me up so completely and rubbing it so perfectly. We rock together, slowly, gentle at first. He tweaks my nipples, places kisses all over my chest and neck as I clench his hair. Its so soft under my fingers. As he begins to increase his pace, I cling to his shoulders for dear life, my fingernails digging into his creamy skin.

"Bella," he growls, thrusting hard against me. His hips slap mine in a perfect rythym, making the table knock into the one behind it loudly. I'm growing close again, climbing that pleasure ladder, and I know that when it hits this time, I'm going to see stars.

"Edward," I moan, "oh God, I'm so close."

"Cum for me, baby," he murmurs, eyes closed as he rears against me. "Oh, I want to feel it all over my dick."

"Edward, Edward!" I cry out, back arching so hard I might break, as I explode against him into a million little pieces. I'm shaking from the intensity, and tears prick at my eyes. He follows soon after with a cracked cry, burying his head in the crook of my shoulder. His hips are still working against mine as he empties his seed inside of me, slower and softer now. Finally, panting, he pulls back and slips out of me.

"Well," I say, clearing my dry throat.

"That was nice," he says, and swats my butt as I hop down from the table. I shoot him a glare as I pull on my clothes, and toe on my Uggs. He chuckles at my expression before wrapping his arms around me, and I put my arms around his neck.

"We should pretend more often," I say, and he nods in agreement, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle, loving kiss to my lips. "Nice touch on my panties, too."

"Hey, you left them on the bathroom floor," Edward replies with a smirk. "It's dirty laundry, I thought that was the point of all this..." He gestures to the laundromat and I roll my eyes. My boyfriend can be so very, very infuriating sometimes.

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